“We’re breaking into a shop in Beijing to steal dry cheese?”
“It’s kind of like candy, okay? For some people.” She pulled his arm and headed back to their chambers. “Let’s put on an extra layer. It’s snowing outside.”
Tenzin was halfway down the ventilation shaft when she realized she’d made a mistake.
“Shit.”
She smelled the dog before she could see it, but if there was a dog below her, that would mean there would be barking, which meant there would be noise, and the old woman who ran the Mongolian grocery in the Miyun District in North Beijing would wake from her small apartment above the store.
She should have remembered that Mongolians were far more likely to keep dogs than the average Chinese resident.
“What’s wrong?” Ben asked above her.
“There may be barking.”
“There’s a dog?”
“I smell one.”
“If it’s one of those massive bankhars, I may hurt you, Tenzin. One of those things almost bit off my foot when I came too close to a sheep one time. I didn’t even know dogs could move that fast.”
“It’s probably something small.” It smelled like a mastiff, but she wasn’t going to tell Ben that. “We’ll just keep to the top of the room.”
She floated down the shaft and could already hear a low growl coming from the throat of the dog she’d smelled.
Okay, it wasn’t a small dog. As she removed the air-intake cover, she saw the hulking beast sitting in a corner of the shop, staring at her as she set the metal cover gently on the top of a store shelf.
“It’s not a small dog,” Tenzin said. “But it’s not… huge.”
She’d seen Tibetan mastiffs that were bigger. Barely.
This dog was black with brown markings around the eyes and a curled tail that quivered as it watched her. She slid into the room, keeping her back to the ceiling and floating over colorful shelves of dried goods, canned meat, and liquor bottles.
“Holy shit, he’s looking right at us.” Ben finally made it into the shop. “How high do you think he can jump?”
“Not twelve feet,” Tenzin said. Probably. She’d seen a bankhar dog take down an eagle once. It was intimidating. “I see the aaruul.”
“If we end up losing any body parts to get Erdun sour-cheese candy, I’m going to be so pissed off,” Ben said. “Tenzin, grab the stuff and let’s go.”
“Distract him,” she said. “The aaruul is on the lowest shelf by the register.”
“Are you kidding me?” He did not sound pleased.
“Probably to tempt the kids when their mothers are checking out,” Tenzin said. “Who can resist aaruul?”
“I’m distracting him. Grab the stuff and go.”
She inched over to the counter, eyeing the bright red wrappers on the child-size packages. Just as she was sinking down to grab a box of the candies, she spotted a yellow-and-purple flower that appeared to be homemade aaruul behind a glass counter.
“Keep distracting him; I spotted the good stuff.”
“Can we maybe assume that Erdun’s not going to be super picky about this stuff and just grab what’s easy?” Ben hissed, “He’s moving. He’s coming toward me, Tenzin.”
The sound of growling got louder. Apparently the dog wasn’t happy that Ben hadn’t left yet even though he was just floating near the ceiling.
“Can you use amnis on dogs?” Ben asked.
“I’ve never tried.” Tenzin reached into the glass display and pinched a pressed aaruul candy, glad to see that it was nicely dried. She quickly stuffed a dozen of the round flowers into a paper bag.
“Tenzin, he’s climbing on the shelves.”
“He can’t climb shelves—he’s a dog.”
The growling had turned from a low rumble into an audible snarl.
“Toss a shoe at him or something,” she said. “Distract him. Dogs like shoes.”
“I’m wearing leather Velascas!”
“I’m sure the dog won’t care.”
He muttered low curses in Italian.
She heard something hard hit the ground, and she grabbed another dozen aaruul flowers just to be safe. After all, it was Erdun’s hundredth birthday.
“That didn’t work, and he is climbing on boxes, Tenzin!”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m coming.”
Tenzin stuffed the aaruul in her jacket, tossed a gold coin on the counter, then swiftly flew over to the boxes where the dog had reached a truly impressive height in his attempt to reach Benjamin, who was only a few feet away, now with one foot clad only in a sock.
She tugged on the dog’s ear, startling it and causing the box to collapse beneath the animal, who fell to the floor, barking furiously at the intruders in his mistress’s shop.
“Come on!” Ben nearly shoved her up the ventilation shaft before he followed her.
Tenzin was laughing when she reached the roof, flying into the frosty night as Ben raced behind her. She darted between the darkened buildings of the Chinese capital, dipping low to skim over the expressways and weaving through the heights of the massive apartment buildings that littered the metropolis.
Ben chased her, and she could feel his rueful delight through their mating bond. He was trying to stay grumpy, but he was having too much fun. She twisted in the sky, enjoying the sheer power of speed, the whipping winter wind that rushed off the northern mountains, and the chill of the salt air as she headed toward the open sea.
Ben caught her foot just as she was heading south over the water.
“Tiny!”
She turned around and saw that he was pointing to the east. The sun was starting to glow on the horizon; she hadn’t realized the trip to the mainland had taken so long.
She waved at him, then headed north. She knew of a bayside holiday resort that would be nearly empty this time of year.
By the time the sun rose, Ben and Tenzin were ensconced in an abandoned bungalow with winter waves crashing in the distance, and her mate was drifting off to sleep.
“So you got it, right?” His voice was a drowsy murmur.
Tenzin pulled the paper bag from her jacket. “I did.”
“Good.” His eyes fluttered. “I hope it was worth it, because you now owe me… a very expensive… pair of shoes.”
Chapter Thirteen
Erdun’s party was the following night, and he was thrilled with the gift of the aaruul. Tenzin presented him with the box of dry-milk candies in a silk box that probably cost far more than the aaruul ever did, but the old man bowed profusely to both of them, whispered something in Tenzin’s ear, and immediately broke off one flower petal and stuck it in his mouth to suck on.
“Success,” Tenzin said. “Erdun said he’d been missing them for years and didn’t think anyone remembered that he liked them.”
“You didn’t tell him that Tai told us to get it, did you?”
“Of course not,” she said. “You lost a shoe for that candy, Benjamin. I’m not giving the credit to Tai.”
He put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “That’s my tiny thief.”